


Mayday

by Gallifrey_Immigrant



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5568277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallifrey_Immigrant/pseuds/Gallifrey_Immigrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Eleventh Doctor and Alice answer an S.O.S. They end up meeting the surprise of a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mayday

“Help. We are in danger.”

That was the message that had brought the Doctor and Alice Obiefune to this ship. It was a simple message, but Alice knew that as soon as they heard it the man wouldn't have been able to resist. He was always raring to help any odd soul that came along. It was a unique mixture of an altruistic desire to help anyone who needed it, and a need for something to put his hyperactive energies into.

The TARDIS tracked the source of the message (after a mishap involving a dress, a smoking console, and the Doctor's usual lack of coordination.). Alice opened the blue doors open, and found herself in a room filled with plants.

“Oh, look. Always liked plants. Maybe the plants sent the message,” said the Doctor. He went from leaf to leaf, poking at them with his screwdriver.

“I don't think plants could type messages,” said Alice. The place looked like some form of hydroponics chamber. But all the plants looked brown, and decaying. Whoever had been maintaining this place was either gone, or very lazy. 

The Doctor walked through the doors leading out of the hydroponics chamber, and into a long hallway. looked back with a frowning expression. Alice figured that it was supposed to look haughty, but it came off more as silly. “Why can't plants type messages? I once met a wonderful gentlemen from the planet Arboreen. Tall, handsome, and like a giant onion. Because he was a giant onion. Anyway, he was very adept with technology of all sorts—and one of smartest people I knew.” 

“But could this onion gentleman type?” asked Alice.

The Doctor shook his head. “No. He didn't really have the thumbs for it. Or any thumbs at all.”

Alice grinned. “Then I think we've found the root of the problem.”

The Doctor opened his mouth, and then closed it. “That wasn't very funny.” 

The lights on the ship were still on. The curved walls reflected the Doctor and Alice in odd ways—the Doctor looked like a fat man with a really large bowtie. Alice looked like...

Like her mother. It had been months since her mother had passed away, but the thought still made Alice wince. 

The Doctor broke her moping (he did that so frequently Alice was beginning to expect it was on purpose) by saying “A locked door! I love locked doors!”   
It was a large blue door. To the left of it was a imprint for a hand. Alice guessed it was the opening mechanism. 

With a large grin, the alien fidgeted through his pockets, took out his trusty sonic screwdriver. Waving it around excitedly, he quietly asked “What's behind the door, you think?”

“Based on the message, probably some terrified innocents, or a horrific monster that wants to eat us,” Alice whispered back. “Or both. Also, why are we whispering?”

“For suspense!” said the Doctor. He then pointed his device at the door. The sonic screwdriver bzzed.

Nothing happened. 

“Hold on,” said the Doctor. He pointed the device at the imprint. 

Nothing happened.

“May I make a suggestion?” asked Alice.

“Absolutely not,” said the Doctor. He slapped the screwdriver, trying to make it work.

Alice pushed her hand on the imprint. The door suddenly vibrated, and a voice came from the ship.

“Companion: Alice Obiefune recognized. Access granted,” said the voice. It sounded Scottish, and angry.

The door opened. 

“How does it know who I am?” said Alice.

The Doctor's face looked confused. It wasn't the good sort of confused, the “what do you mean wearing a banana suit every day isn't awesome?” confusion the Doctor sometimes had, but the “there is something very wrong here, and possibly life-threatening” confusion.

“I don't know. Alice, perhaps you should stay in the TARDIS,” said the Doctor.

Alice shook her head. “Who's going to keep you out of trouble?”

“Then stay by me. Something very fishy is going on here,” said the alien. 

Alice and the Doctor went inside. They had to squeeze through, as this hallway was narrow—nearly too small to fit through. There were holes in the wall, and the way Alice was moving through the hallway meant she looking straight through those holes. Occasionally, she thought she saw something through the holes—a flash of rainbow color, or something scaly slithering—but she knew it was just her imagination. Right?

Eventually, the two escaped the hallway. This room looked like it belonged to whoever was running the ship. It was covered with insignia, and had a large computer in the side.

The Doctor stretched his legs, while Alice looked around. There was a blinking monitor. Alice began typing around on the keyboard. It was clear that someone had recently been deleting stuff—there was only a few files on the whole thing. Overall, the computer reminded her of the ones from her time. Which was bothering her.

“Isn't this supposed to be the future?” said Alice. 

“Well, it's all relative. It is your future. 100s of years into it,” said the Doctor, adjusting his bow-tie in the reflection of the metal.

“So why is the technology seem so much the ones I used in the libraries where I come from?” said Alice. 

The Doctor peered over at the screen. “You'd be surprised how many societies are like the 21st Century. Let's click that “Mission Log” and see if we can find out what's going on.” Without waiting for Alice, he clicked on the file and read through it in 10 seconds. Before Alice could even say “Hold on”, he had jumped from the monitor in horror. 

“Oh no. Oh no. Oh no,” said the Doctor. 

“What's wrong?” asked Alice.

“Didn't you read it?” said the Doctor. He was rifling through the desks, reading the papers.

“You scrolled too fast. Not everyone reads at your speed,” Alice complained. She looked back at the screen. “What's the Soulbound Nebula?

“It's a famous legend of a galaxy that only shows up every now and again, and can't be located once you try to hunt for it. That wasn't their destination. That's where the ship is located. I thought there was something odd about the coordinates...”

“We're in the nebula?” said Alice. 

“That's not the worst part. The name of the people who made the ship”

Alice looked back at the document “The Shadow Proclamation?” 

The Doctor nodded. For once, he looked properly afraid. “They've spent their life's work ring to kill me. Oh, how could have I been so foolish...what would be a perfect trap for me? The mayday. The fact that your hand print works perfectly. Defenses to counteract my sonic. This is the perfect trap for me.”

He looked so hopeless, so lost. Alice hugged him out of the reflex. “We'll get through this, okay?” She turned to walk through the exit, and of course it wasn't there. The lights in the room started to dim, and glow red.

“Phase B is now starting,” said the same Scottish male voice. He sounded no happier, if anything, he was angrier.

“What's Phase B?” said the Doctor. When there was no response, he grumbled. “Typical. Someone tries to kill me, and they do it by pre-recorded messages. I can't even complain to anyone.”

A loud moaning came from outside the room, followed by rustling chains.

“Alice, do you know the other name for this place?” asked the Doctor. “It's called the Nebula of Lost Souls,”

“Why?” said Alice.

“I think,” said the Doctor, “that we're about to find out.”   
The lights in the room shut off.

Then the screen of the monitor blinked off, and then turned itself back on. Alice and the Doctor tip-toed to the screen, and looked on as the mouse double-clicked an icon on the desktop by itself.

“Remote control?” whispered Alice. 

“Probably,” said the Doctor. “Whatever it is, it's clearly got a perfectly scientific explanation. Probably.”

Red liquid began to seep from the keyboard. 

Alice turned to the Doctor. “Perfectly scientific?”

The Doctor awkwardly extended a finger and dabbed the wet keyboard with a finger. Alice nearly gagged as he licked his red finger. A frown came upon his face.

“What is it? Is it what I think it is?” asked Alice.

The Doctor shrugged. “That depends. Do you think it's strawberry punch?”

Before Alice could respond, the monitor changed screens, accompanied by a loud chord. On the screen was five words.

“Hope you enjoyed the experience.”

The Doctor read them, and then he laughed at loud. The lights turned back on, and the Doctor was still laughing.

“What's going on?” asked Alice. 

“Ha, now that was a good one...of course! The Soulbound Nebula—I should have thought of that!” crowed the Doctor. He turned back to Alice. “We're not in the Soulbound Nebula. I mean, we are, but not in the one we were thinking of. You see, no one's ever found the real Nebula. But that hasn't stopped the legend from spreading. So, some people have decided to capitalize on that.”

“Capitalize...wait. So we're in a fake nebula? This whole thing is fake?” said Alice.

“Yes! This isn't the real nebula—this is an extremely advanced haunted house based on the legend of it!”

“So this wasn't some trap by the Shadow Proclamation?” said Alice.

“No! Though that leaves a good question. Whoever designed this knew exactly what would bring me here, and what would scare me—even knew enough about me to use the Shadow Proclamation to scare me.” 

“And knew enough about me to use my hand print. And knew I use 21st century technology,” said Alice.

“Not that it really worked. I could clearly tell that those documents were forged. And that fake blood was definitely over-doing it,” said the Doctor. He then jumped when a voice, decidedly not Scottish or male, came from the monitor. 

“By now, sweetie, you're probably boasting how you weren't scared for a second,” said a curly-haired blonde woman on the monitor. “Fortunately, I've arranged for your heartbeat and bio-signs to be recorded, so they'll be undeniable proof that this scared you to death. I hope so—I paid for it.”

The Doctor was smiling at the mysterious blonde woman. Alice got the feeling he knew her from somewhere. 

“She a friend of yours?,” asked Alice. 

“More than a friend,” said the Doctor. “She's the one who could know enough about me to set this up.” 

“Now, you're wondering why did I do this? Check the date,” said the woman.

The Doctor fumbled in his pockets, and pulled out his pocket watch. Then he paused, looking confused.

“The date, honey,” said the woman. 

“Is this actually pre-recorded?” asked the Doctor.

“Yes. I just know you that well,” said the woman. “Try asking your companion.” 

“I think you said it was October—oh!” said Alice. 

“Happy Halloween, sweetie,” said the woman. 

“Happy Halloween to you too, sweetie,” said the Doctor. To Alice, the Doctor looked the happiest he had been in a long time.

A few minutes later, the Doctor and Alice were walking to their TARDIS. The Doctor still had a smile on his face.

“What I don't understand, is how she knew that I would be traveling with you?” said Alice.

The Doctor folded his arms, and said “I suppose I told her before in my future.”

Alice tried to untangle that sentence, and couldn't, so just took his word for it.

As they left, the Scot said “Hope you enjoyed the trip. Do come some other time. Be seein' you soon.”


End file.
